


Destiny Beckons

by tyyrael



Category: Diablo III
Genre: Cover Art, F/F, Gen, Illustrated, M/M, POV Character of Color, Rating May Change, aromantic asexual protagonist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5718355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyyrael/pseuds/tyyrael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A star has fallen from the heavens, and reawoken the vengeful dead in the hamlet of New Tristram. A rebellious young Xian wizard seizes his chance to fulfill a prophecy long thought to contain someone else’s destiny. With the help of an unlikely band of companions, will he be able to stop the onslaught of evil that follows in the star’s wake, or will he fall victim to his own hubris?</p>
<p>(In other words, a HEAVILY altered version of Diablo 3 with an emphasis on the wizard, because I find him to be the most intriguing of all the protagonists.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rebel With a Cause

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very excited to start this story, as it's going to be my big project for the next couple weeks! When all is said and done, it should be 15-20 chapters. I can't promise illustrations for each chapter, though!
> 
> Information that will be pertinent later on:
> 
> In this version of Diablo, the wizard is the only Nephalem. The male demon hunter and female Barbarian are not Nephalem, but still major characters who were also drawn to Tristram to help fight the risen dead. (They'll show up in the next chapter.)  
> For reference:
> 
> Tai Xiaoli = male wizard  
> Odesa = female barbarian  
> Emeric = male demon hunter

 

The bitter sting of the mountain winds seared his skin and shook his very bones, but the flames of rage kept him warm, even absent a coat. He grunted and shielded his face from the wicked wind, trudging stubbornly through the snow, despite his nerves screaming at him to give up and go home.

But it was too late to turn back. There _was_ no home now.

He was done with their lies. The masters’ benign excuses for magic may have been able to placate the lesser mages, who were fascinated by even the most innocuous spells, but never him. He was smarter than that.

Furthermore, he was done being treated like a child, like an unassuming little thing that hadn't the faintest idea of what power was or what to do with it. In truth, though, they were the ones who knew nothing of real power. Oh, they might have _called_ themselves Masters of the Arcane, but they were really just fools and cowards. Any mage who disputed that fact would spend their life grovelling at their feet, and he would sooner die than _grovel_.

He was done with their impudence. They rejected the prophecy because they knew that, if true, it would prove everything they knew of magic to be wrong. He was smarter than that.

He may have only been nineteen, all he knew of the world filtered through a sheltered life in the Yshari Sanctum studying spells and philosophy, but damn it, he was destined for more than wasting away in some ancient academy poring over the works of long-dead mages. To do so would be an insult to his talent. _He_ was, of course, smarter than that.

So he left. He blew up three-quarters of the Sanctum and nearly killed the High Councilor in the process, but he left.

And so he trudged, dauntlessly through the frigid snow, armed with nothing but an ancient prophecy, a sighting of a falling star, and nineteen years of life experience to guide him. His masters would call him a fool if they saw him now. They were probably scrambling amongst themselves and ordering the Viz-Jaq’taar to kill him at that very moment, but soon they would see the fault in their actions. Or they would die-- whichever came first.

His destination was Tristram. A scarlet star had fallen from the heavens, cresting into the Western horizon, and the prophecy contained word of the town Diablo had once defiled with his evil so many years ago. It _had_ to be bound for Tristram.

If the word of frightened refugees fleeing to the east was anything to go by, then there were also undead pushing out of their graves in the star’s wake, flexing their decaying limbs once again to terrify the living-- a scene from a story to frighten children, if anything. But he could handle the living dead. It was whatever came afterward that would truly test his might. He recited the prophecy over and over in his head. He could almost see the glowing orange words again, etched in crystal and simmering with arcane energy, locked somewhere deep in the forbidden vaults of the Yshari archives:

_He shall arrive unto this world in the wake of the Eye’s destruction, with power to put the children of Inarius and Lilith to shame. The star that graces the skies shall crash upon the ground which Terror itself once trod-- the sign that his moment has arrived. Should he fail thusly to put a stop to the Chaos that follows, Lies and Sin shall claim Sanctuary, and the sum of all Evil shall bring ruin to the Heavens._

The Eye of Anu, the Heart of Creation; he was born just shy of a year after the Worldstone was destroyed. Sure, a great deal of other boys were as well, but then none of them had the arcane prowess he was fortunate enough to possess. His masters had always been wary of his precociousness and superior abilities.

Then there was the matter of the fallen star. He had not thought it to be an actual meteorite at first, but prophecy was funny like that. You never knew when something was meant to be taken literally.

The final sentence was more troubling. Lies and sin? Perhaps the kings of Khanduras and such would turn on each other, and the Zakarum priests would be flailing around hopelessly as the general public drank and fornicated with reckless abandon? Or perhaps the war between angels and demons would finally put an end to humanity. And The sum of all Evil… it didn't take a mystic to figure out this bit had some connection to the demon lords.

The burden of those words weighed more heavily than ever on his young shoulders, but it was no matter. Destiny beckoned, and so he answered. Thus he marched on, willing the prophecy out of his mind so as to focus on not freezing to death before making it to Tristram. He could not afford to fail so early into his quest. The very fate of Creation depended upon him.

He held out his frosted hand and traced the fallen star’s arcing path through the night sky. Before long, he would be in Tristram, carrying out the role he was always meant to fulfill. Soon… soon…

The possibility of failure echoed once again through his mind, magnified by all his masters’ past belittlement and scolding. _You're much too rash, you must be more restrained with your power! If this were a real battle, you surely would have fallen. Now, try that spell again, but this time with less aggression. Akarat’s mercy, your recklessness will be the death of you._

No, he can't think about that. He can't even consider it.

Tai Xiaoli will not fail.


	2. Into the Mouth of the Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun!
> 
> Again, for reference: Tai is the wizard, Odesa is the barbarian, and Emeric is the demon hunter. This is where things start to divert from the actual Diablo storyline. 
> 
> Sorry for the rushed artwork, the anatomy is pretty sloppy lol.

 

It took weeks for Tai to traverse the deserts of Aranoch and the mountains of Khanduras, but eventually he caught sight of the silhouette of buildings on the horizon. It was a standard little city, easily mistaken for a safe haven by the inattentive traveller, but Tai knew from the charred ruins nearby that this was none other than New Tristram--Diablo’s old stomping grounds, and the nest of a fallen star.

Tai had stopped in Lut Gholein to rest and gather some more information about the crisis to the west, but was able to obtain nothing more detailed than, “I hear the dead are rising there!” or “My sister thinks she saw a demon there, last she remembers.” He supposed he would have to judge the severity of the situation for himself when he arrived.

“Hold your position, men! Give them all you’ve got!” A distant shout reverberated across the plains, followed by grunts of pain and the clanging of swords. Tai quickened his pace. When the groans of the dead became audible, he broke into a full sprint-- apparently the state of the town was worse than he thought if the city guard was unable to fully control the hoards anymore. 

When Tai arrived at the gates, he unstrapped his staff from his sling and with a deft twirl, sent a bolt of arcane energy ripping through a corpse that had secured its hands tenaciously around the necks of one of the guards. The sentry righted himself and turned to Tai, sputtering, “Thanks. Er, who are you?”

“We can discuss that later,” he replied, seeing as about a dozen undead were tearing through the makeshift barricade at that very moment. Tai swiped his staff in a great arc, issuing a spiral of flame that quickly engulfed the putrefied crowd. Another upward thrust of the stave, and a wall of thick ice rose from the moisture in the earth and replaced the crumbling blockade. The town entrance was secure-- for now.

A man who appeared to be the guard-captain, judging by his ridiculously plumed helmet, addressed Tai with a curt nod. “Thank you for the help, but I must say we had that under control. Civilians are not to--”

“You didn’t appear to have all that much control from where _I_ was standing,” Tai interrupted, putting his away his staff. “The undead would have eaten well tonight, if not for _me_.”

Several yards to the right, a haggard looking man in all black strode over to the two of them, wiping blood and viscera off the bolts he had just pulled from the skulls of the some fallen cadavers. His slender, claw-like fingers and dark eyes brought the image of a crow to mind. “Disregard him. Your help is appreciated,” he said, although his tone suggested mild disapproval at Tai’s cockiness. “Who are you?”

“The key to stopping all this madness.”

The guard-captain groaned, and the crow-like man’s eye gave the most miniscule twitch. “Stop being so cryptic. State your name, mage.”

“Tai Xiaoli, if you must know. I am a wizard, and prophecy drew me to this land. Now, can one of you lot open the city gates for me? I’m quite famished at the moment; it’s a long way from Caldeum.”

The captain hesitated for a moment, but gave a nod to his lackeys after a single glance from the crow-man. Tai pondered momentarily over who the man could be. Who could have such authority over these soldiers without even being among their ranks?

The men pulled a latch and hauled open the heavy gates. Tristram’s fortifications were quite impressive, given the size of the town. It was clear that these people had faced great turmoil in the past, to have bolstered their defenses in such a manner.

The few villagers who were not holed up in their dwellings whispered urgently amongst themselves as the wizard passed through the city gates and marched to the nearest inn. They must have heard Tai uttering his spells. Typical Westerners, distrustful of anything involving even the slightest hint of magic. Stifling a yawn, he strolled inside the nearest building that looked as if it was capable of serving food.

“The ‘Slaughtered Calf Inn.’ How charming,” he murmured, although once inside, he _did_ appreciate the scent of bread, and the warm air that hadn’t graced his skin since his stay at Lut Gholein. Immediately, however, his gaze was drawn to half a dozen townspeople laying sickly on stretchers in the corner. Well, that’s _one_ way to ruin an appetite.

Just then, a girl came running out from a room in the back, carrying bandages and antiseptic in her arms. She had a messy shock of brown hair, held into the shape of a haircut only by the golden bow she wore on the crown of her head. Her clothing was worn but not quite in tatters, and her face suggested youth; she may have even been younger than Tai.

He observed with detached interest as she tended to the sick. He began devouring the bread and soup the innkeeper provided for him-- “Free of charge, for helpin’ keep New Tristram safe.” Idly, he wondered why this girl was solely responsible for treatment of the wounded. Did this town have no apothecary, no healers?

Eventually, he grew frustrated with watching this charade, and spoke up once he was finished with his meal. “Perhaps I can be of assistance?” he asked. “I'm not exactly a healer, but I know a few spells.”

The girl whipped her head around, the bow flapping gently as she did so. “Oh! Sure, go ahead. Who are you--if you don't mind me asking?”

Tai knelt down beside an injured man and conjured a mote of light in his hand. He held the restorative energy to the infected wound, slowly clearing away the rotting flesh. “Call me Tai.”

“It’s good to see new faces around here. My name is Leah, by the way.” She watched attentively as Tai did his spellwork on the wounded man. After a moment, she said, “Wow! You'll have to teach me how to do that.”

 Tai sealed the pink wound with a small flame, to stop it from leaking blood. The man bleated idly in pain, probably only half-conscious. “You must be magically inclined to use magic, if you weren't _aware_ ,” Tai said. That came out a bit more patronizing than he intended it to. Oh well.

Predictably, this seemed to irritate Leah. “Well, I'm a mage too-- technically.”

“Oh? There's a technicality?”

“I've been able to use magic before, but only a few times, when my life was in grave danger.” She poured a bit water into the lips of one of the injured, who promptly coughed it back up.

“Hm. Doesn't sound like you would be a good student then, if I had to try and kill you every time I wanted you to use a spell,” Tai said, vaguely amused.

“It was just a thought,” Leah replied, shrugging.

A gust of wind interrupted their busy mending as the door to the inn swung open. The tiny flame Tai conjured in his palm struggled and then blew out, and he was about to scold whoever was responsible, when he looked up and was quickly rendered speechless. 

He had never seen anyone so _tall_ in his life. The woman must have stood almost seven feet, from her toes to the crown of her head-- she had to duck under the doorway to enter the inn. With long red hair, a gigantic battle axe, and muscles that would make any Crusader jealous, she stood out in quaint little Tristram even more than Tai did. And Tai definitely stood out.

“Leah,” the formidable woman said “I am afraid I bear bad news: I was unable to pass very far into the Cathedral. It is infested with hellspawn.” Her voice was husky and marked by a strong Northern accent.

Tai gleaned from this strange intonation and the markings on her weapon that she was one of the Children of Bul-Kathos, the fearsome defenders of Arreat, who were better known by the more contentious moniker: _barbarians_. But what was she doing this far south? A question better saved for later. Now, Tai had something more pressing on his mind.

“The Cathedral?” he piped up. “Why would you go there?”

Leah answered before the warrior could. “My uncle, Deckard Cain-- he’s trapped inside.” 

“Trapped?”

“A star fell from the skies and crashed into the Cathedral. I was able to get away in time, but Uncle Deckard wasn’t.” Leah’s gaze shifted downwards, her features tight with contrition. “I was going to go back to get him, but then the dead started rising-- I had to look after the townspeople.”

The warrior woman chimed in at this point. “I offered to look for her Uncle in the meanwhile. Unfortunately, clearing the demons from the Cathedral will require a larger party than I. Rescue will have to wait.” She faced Leah and bowed her head in apology. “I am sorry, little one.”

“No, it’s fine. You did all you could. Thank you.”

The tall, dark-robed man from before poked his head inside the doorway at that moment, and scanned the room back and forth as if looking for someone. When he saw the barbarianess in the corner, he swiftly drew himself inside. “Odesa. I found someone who can aid us in clearing the Cathe--” he lost his voice as his gaze shifted to Tai.

“Am I correct in assuming you are talking about me?” Tai asked, smirking.

“Yes,” the man said. “Your magic should make the job easier.”

“Of course it will,” Tai said. He stood up, suddenly tired of treating the ill and in the mood for something more stimulating. “You lot can stay behind, though. I should be able to handle this on my own.”

“No!” Leah shouted. “Odesa said it was dangerous to go alone.”

“ _Odesa_ isn’t a mage,” Tai countered.

“I do believe it would be unwise to go alone. You are much smaller than I, and would quickly succumb to the demons, should something happen.”

“Size isn’t everything!”

“It’s something,” the crow-man pointed out, his voice lacking inflection. “You say you were led here by prophecy, wizard. Odesa and I were also drawn here to the fallen star. She is an experienced warrior, and I a skilled archer. It could not hurt for us to tag along.”

“You’d only slow me down,” Tai protested, but he knew at this point there was no shaking off these two. It looked as if he was going to have to share in the glory of saving this town, after all.

Round about half-hour into their trek in the woods (made slower than it should have been by horde after horde of the living dead), Tai now knew a considerable amount about his traveling companions.

He learned he was indeed correct about Odesa’s origins. She was a Child of Bul-Kathos, one of the strongest of their warriors, her tribe scattered to the wind after the destruction of the Worldstone. She was the only one of her clan that did not seem to lose her sense of purpose in the aftermath. When the star fell, she followed it, hoping to lend aid to the land that it marred.

Tai also learned the crow-man was a demon hunter named Emeric, and that he was actually quite a bit younger than he looked. Apparently his entire family and all his friends were slaughtered by demons, and he was rescued by a shadowy group of hunters who made it their life’s mission to inflict as much pain on hellspawn as possible. Tai wasn’t sure how to respond, as he never had any family or friends and thus did not quite understand the concept of grief.

Of himself, Tai revealed little. Only that he was Xian mage, raised in Caldeum, and no longer had any desire to remain in the Sanctum where he grew up. Odesa and Emeric did not press the matter.

Soon they arrived at the colossal, ornate doors that marked the entrance of the massive Cathedral. Tai stuck his stave in the ground, put a hand on his hip, and surveyed the huge structure with idle interest. He then turned to his companions. “Well, the offer hasn’t expired yet! You can still wait right here if you want. I shouldn’t be in there long.”

Odesa mimicked his stance, placing a hand on her hip, and the demon hunter just unsheathed his crossbow stared blankly at him.

“Fine,” he huffed. “Be like that. Let’s go in, then.”

Odesa’s assessment of the place was certainly accurate; Tai almost tripped on a mob of those fiendish little demons that resemble small children as soon as he stepped within the steeple, cursing as he sprayed fire at the lot of them. It was easy enough to clear this part of the building, and _okay_ , maybe it helped quite a bit to have the other two around. Emeric was an impeccable marksman and provided perfect cover for Odesa to roll into a mob of the beasts and cleave the head off the big one without taking any hits. They had probably been fighting together for the good few weeks they knew each other, judging by the way they played seamlessly off one another’s attacks.

Regardless, Tai made a point of stealing as many of their kills as possible.

Emeric huffed in irritation when the Tai cast a streak of lightning at a skeleton he had been aiming for, causing the thing to recoil and his bolt to fly past it and into the crater, likely never to be seen again. Odesa rolled her eyes. Tai just smiled sweetly at the both of them.

 

As they descended further into the bowels of the old Cathedral, the throngs of demons became larger and more frequent. Tai began to get more reckless with his attacks, throwing bigger spheres of flame and more sporadic bolts of electricity, nearly singing Emeric’s coat in the process. When he checked one of the enemies he felled for some loot, he noticed with a start that the thing he just killed was no demon. 

He turned the thing over and came face to face with the lifeless visage of a _human being_.

“Shit,” he said breathlessly.

“Your first kill, I take it? Human, anyways,” Emeric said. His tone was flat but there was a searching look in his eyes that made Tai wonder if the hunter was recalling his _own_ first kill. “Don’t be alarmed. Leah spotted hostile cultists in the area recently, wearing strange robes like these. You’ve done good by ridding the world of one of them.”

Tai shook himself from his stupor and stood up. “Yes, of course. We should keep going, then.” He made no more attempts to steal the others’ kills for the rest of the journey.

Before long, more cultists began to appear, wielding knives or dark magic or _both_. A sudden, piercing cry resounded from one of the lower levels that made Tai jump.

Odesa peered over the edge of one of the partially destroyed walls (she was the only one tall enough to do so). “There’s a man down there!” she cried. “Being held by the cultists, in some sort of ritual.”

Emeric loaded a bolt in his crossbow and got this alarmingly ferocious look in his eyes. “Those wretched demon worshippers will not take another innocent. Let’s move!”

They descended quickly down the stairs, and Tai arrived first-- courtesy of teleportation. A ring of the yellow-robed devotees held a man in the air with concentrated beams of chthonic energy. Tai knew the spell to be especially painful, when cast on a human being. Immediately, he waved his staff and brought a blizzard of sharp ice down on the circle, disrupting their concentration and sending the man crashing to the rubble-laden ground with an _oomph_.

“He disrupted the ritual! _Get him!_ ”

The other two arrived just then, Odesa diving in front of the wizard and shielding him from a magic projectile with her great bloody axe. Emeric launched a bolt between one of the perpetrator’s eyes, then fired rapidly at the remaining cultists using some kind of swiftness enchantment.

The man on the floor grunted and got to his feet, surprisingly quickly. He must be quite strong, to endure that assault and recover in such a short span of time. “Thank you,” he said, glancing at the three of them in rapid succession.

“What did those cultists want with you?” Tai asked immediately.

The man made a face that would probably have been humorous if not for the present situation, and said bitterly, “They were once my brothers, but they turned on me, in favor of this… this… _sacrilege_. They hid my armor up there.” He gestured vaguely to the opposite end of the room, up a flight of stairs.

“So, were they, like, your literal brothers or figurative brothers?” Tai asked, bouncing alongside the man as he walked spryly up the steps.

“Er, figurative. You see,” he opened the chest hidden behind one of the massive stone pillars, slipped on leather pants and a coat, and then more armor on top of that, until the bulk of his body was encased in the magnificent metal adornments. “My name is Kormac, and I am a _templar_.”

“A Templar?” Tai asked. “What does that--”

He was cut off by an enraged shriek coming from one of the adjacent rooms.

“ _Jondar_ ,” Kormac said with a sneer. “The one who betrayed our Order and turned it to darkness. He must have found one of the cultists’ bodies. You _must_ help me kill him.”

“Of course,” Odesa said. “We will bring justice to you and your Order.”

They rushed into the room only to be met with a small army of skeletons. “Necromancy!” Jondar uttered between clenched teeth, using a mace to bash one of their skulls in, but three more took its place and clutched feverishly at his armor.

What happened after that could only be described as chaos: Odesa’s axe swinging at vengeful spirits, only to pass through them like air; a skeleton archer loosing an arrow directly into Emeric’s wrist, knocking the crossbow out of his hand as he yelled in agony; a ghastly man with sunken-in eyes and bony armor--Jondar?-- grabbing Tai by the throat and hissing, “So _you_ are the one who interrupted the ritual.”

Tai struggled to free himself from the man’s painful, choking grasp, but some sort of archaic magic was freezing his limbs in place. He could do nothing but glare back into the man’s eyes with defiant fury.

In the background, he could hear his companions shouting and struggling against the necromancer’s host of fiends, becoming more and more muted as his ears started to ring and his vision started to go in and out of focus. All the while he kept his gaze fixed on the man’s eyes, though that was becoming dark and blurry too, and air, dear Akarat, he needed some fucking _air_ \-- and then--

 _BOOM._ The great room rattled as a violent blast of power shook the very walls and collapsed the necromancer’s skeletal army. A purplish bolt of arcane energy hit Jondar squarely in the side, expertly aimed so as not to hit Tai, who fell to the ground hard and gasped desperately for air. 

A bolt of ice through Jondar’s chest, and he was dead. The spell was broken.

The others fought their way from under the pile of bones, and promptly sprinted over to the panting wizard. “Are you alright?” the Templar asked him, feeling his neck tenderly, checking for injury to the bone.

“I’m-- _ah_ \--I’m _fine_ ,” Tai managed, wincing when Kormac touched on a sore spot.

“Relax. I’m a healer.”

Emeric righted himself and glanced around the room, holding his injured wrist. “What happened? What was that?”

A small figure stepped out from behind one of the pillars, timidly. When it entered the light, everyone was shocked to see the slight form of a girl, eyes big and blue, hair pulled back in a bun, little staff clutched between delicate hands. “I hope you are all okay? Forgive me for causing any undue harm. I heard screaming, and saw you being attacked by the necromancer.”

Everyone was speechless. _That_ power and come from _that_ little girl?

Emeric was the first to speak. “Thank you. We quite possibly may owe you our lives. What is your name?”

“Eirena,” the little blonde thing said with a curtsy. “And I believe you were looking for this man?” She quickly skittered behind the pillar, and re-emerged with a spritely old man, his spine curved and his beard long and unkempt.

“Deckard Cain?” Tai asked.

  
Indeed, it was.


End file.
